\chapauth{Ben Biddick} \chapter{The Cough} He was so sick. He had a terminal disease. He vomited tears from his eyes. He threw up over and over again. He was always sweating. Sweating to the point of dehydration and delirium. The doctor couldn't find out what was wrong. He just knew that my friend was going to die. Anyone could see that! The doctor was dismissed from trying to help. He could do about as much as I could. I sat by my friend day and night. Crying and cursing right along with him. It was driving me insane. My friend was going to die and I could do nothing to stop it! His bed sheets were soaked with the odor and liquid of perspiration. He was rambling on, mumbling nonsense. What could I do? My brain! His body! He screamed with all of our agony. I prayed constantly to God, First I prayed that my friend would heal. After no letup from this horrid sickness, I prayed that the Lord would take my friend's soul so that I could rest! You call me inhuman?! You can never understand. You did not see your best friend frothing and foaming, sweating unrelentlessly, going to the bathroom on himself and laying in it for days! That is what is inhuman, not me. The idea finally sprang into my mind. I laugh with the thought of some rest from this terrible nursing. I giggled with delirium myself! I would be rid of this forever! Yes, I would do it! I grabbed a urine stained pillow from the floor and shoved it over the face of my friend. I first heard him choke and giggle, than in a few seconds that seemed centuries, his body tensed. He scratched at me. He tried to get the pillow away but he was too frail. Ha! He soon began to relax eternally.. Soon enough, the man was dead. I took the pillow from my friend's face. He had no pulse. His chest showed no movement. He was dead. Suddenly, a wave of depression and sadness drenched my body. I cradled my friend's sweat-soaked head and began to cry. He was so cold and so gone. He had died with his eyes open. I was too tired to close them. I staggered out the door. I would finally be able to rest. Oh, Lord forgive me, I could rest. What was that? Something peculiar sounded from the room behind me. It was a dead man's cough\ldots